Corvo: the Professional
by theRealSeal
Summary: A retelling of the pivotal events in Corvo's life through his eyes, from his miraculous escape to the rescuing of Emily, and his ultimate transformation from royal bodyguard to avenger of justice. Based on low chaos playthrough and chronologic events from Dishonored. *NOTE: All events closely follow the in-game plot. *I do not own Dishonored, its characters, or affiliates
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Your life has taken a turn, hasn't it Corvo…? It will get no easier from now…"

That mysterious, unnerving voice continued ringing in my ears during sleep, despite my greatest efforts to shut out any noise. I tossed and turned; my legs hung over the foot of this dingy, smelly mattress, and my hands brushed against the cold hard stone below. There was a distinct clattering sound nearby, and I sat up haphazardly to see the faint silhouette of a guard in front of my cell door.

"You should eat. This comes from a friend," he said, before shutting the gate and turning to walk away.

I felt my back crack as I barely managed to slide down onto the ground and crawl towards the only source of nourishment in what felt like weeks. I felt the warm golden loaf between my hands - the only welcome in my otherwise damp, rusting cage - before wolfing it down in less than a minute, surprising even myself with the speed of which one could eat. As my hands hurriedly brushed the silver platter for crumbs, I noticed that a small object seemed to gleam in the middle.

When my eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, I noticed that the object was a key. What's more, a letter had been carefully folded around it.

"_Here is the key to your cell. Once you're out, head for the Interrogation Room."_

Wondering if I had gone mad from the torture, I held the letter up and squinted at the words. It was written plainly and the words were unmistakable.

"…_when the bomb goes off, run. Make for the river and lose yourself in the sewers…Good luck."_

I could hardly imagine why anyone would want me alive at that point, but a key was a key. I reached through the cell bars and felt the opening of the lock just outside the gate; I turned the key in it, half expecting it to jam and reveal itself to be a cruel joke, but a distinct _click _proved otherwise. After checking the room for guards and seeing none, I hesitantly slid open the gate, wondering just how I was going to pull off my escape. I felt a jolt of energy as I realized the possibility.

"Hey, cut a guard for me, will ya?" said a gruff man in a nearby cell, inevitably a ruffian who had picked the wrong fight.

I looked around and walked towards a table with a few unattended coins and a guardsman's sword on it; brushing the coins into my pocket, I picked up the sword and felt its weight in my hands. It was sharp enough to kill.

"…all the nobles and rich men are to attend. Come to see the Lord Protector get his head cut off…" a prison guard's voice rang through the hall. As I heard footsteps draw near, I immediately retracted behind a wall and observed.

"Bah, they're worse than this lot," answered another heavier guard.

So there were two guards on duty. Sweat running down my brow, I wet my lips and peered around the corner. The two men were alone in the brightly lit hallway, but a suspended walkway a few meters in the distance quelled my ambition to make a run for it.

As soon as the lower watch guard in front turned his back, I snuck up behind him and snatched him into a chokehold. I struggled to keep his flailing body within my arms, as my energy had nearly been completely drained from days in captivity. Within seconds, the guard became limp and his body flopped onto the ground.

There was no turning back now; I swiftly dragged him into my cell and placed him in the middle, a message to be sent to all who would come searching for me later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I was running across the tower courtyard, basking in the warmth of the sun and listening to Emily's laughter. I whisked through rows of neatly trimmed hedges, moving from one hiding place to another.

"Corvooo, where are you…?" she called. "I'm going to find you…"

As I slid behind a pile of wooden crates, her voice gradually faded in the distance until it was barely audible.

_She won't find me here, _I thought gleefully to myself.

"_Corvooo_…" her voice had faded away and the sound of my name trailed into the harrowing echo of the wind.

_Yes, she will never find me…_ I said in my head. I looked down at my hands to see that they had suddenly become bloodied; the grounds beneath me fell, darkness enveloped my body and suddenly I was staring at the corpse of the Empress, dead by my blade.

I awoke to the smell of rotting wood and the sight of my dimly lit room at the Hound Pits Pub, now illuminated by the light of dawn outside.

_Another bad dream, _I thought. Since my first visit with the Outsider, my sleep had never quite been the same since.

Looking at the mark on my left hand, I sat up and reached under the bed to gather my gear. I walked across the room to a dilapidated cabinet and opened it.

"_Why am I so cold?" _the heart whispered, palpitating slowly in my hand.

"Why are you always so mundane?" I asked it back before shoving it into the deepest depths of my pocket.

As I proceeded down the stairs, Lydia greeted me with a smile as she swept the grounds.

"Good morning, Master Corvo," she said. "I hope you had a good night's rest. Havelock and Martin are waiting for you in the bar."

There were times where I felt like running out to the shores and yelling at the top of my lungs, cursing the world for all the madness that had befallen Dunwall. From the impending plague to consorting street gangs and branding the High Overseer in his own house, the pains of life as a fugitive had become ever exacerbated by the fact that we were now conspiring against the Lord Regent through high crimes. It was with increasing likelihood that we would end up dead before ever escaping Dunwall as a last resort; all this planning and plotting seemed futile in the face of this bleak reality.

Nevertheless, I entered the bar and awaited news of our next move. Emily's survival was the only hope I could live for.

"Corvo, we have news of Emily's whereabouts," General Havelock asserted, taking a swig of beer.

"They've taken her to the Golden Cat, of all places," Martin answered with distaste, though I detected a faint blush in his face. "Nothing but a cursed brothel."

"With the information you've given us, we were able to track Emily with certainty. The brothers of our own Lord Pendleton, Morgan and Curtis, also happen to be there. As long as they exist, our votes in Parliament will be overridden. They will have to be eliminated," said Havelock. "Lord Pendleton will be waiting to speak with you outside. Good luck."

Of course, now that I had been called to commit fratricide on behalf of someone else, I felt even dirtier than when I had swum through the sewers. Without saying a word, I exited the building and got Piero to build a few more upgrades before riding with Samuel back to the Distillery District.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Careful, Corvo. Seems to me that the Guard has doubled their numbers in the District; I bet you got them all riled up from taking down the High Overseer. Beware of the watchtowers," Samuel advised as he steered the boat onto the shore. "Important thing is getting Emily back safe and sound."

I adjusted my mask and put on my hood before exiting onto land while Samuel stepped off to warm his hands by an unattended fireplace. Deciding to survey the area before proceeding, I reached deep into my coat pocket and pulled out the heart.

"_I can feel a great age ending…" _it echoed.

"Where is the Golden Cat?" I asked it impatiently.

"_They are burning the whales…"_

I unsheathed my blade; more than anything, I felt like prodding the thing into submission, but it was as vague as ever. Still, I would never know its mechanism of function as a directive for bone charms and runes, which I seem to have taken for granted lately. Since my encounter with the Outsider, I felt as if I had slowly merged with the ethereal and the heaviness of my physical body had seemed to wither with time despite my recovery…

The heart continued churning in my palm, the intricate machinery visible within the atrial valve turning and glowing in rhythm. It felt very much alive, as if molded into a thinking entity of itself with powers of foreseeing; did these come at the expense of a dark ritual? Or did the Outsider himself intervene to change the fate of this heart of an unfortunate individual? I tried to suppress these thoughts of becoming like the object in my hands, unfeeling and wandering, and pressed forward.

"– one – two – three – HEAVE - !"

I heard a loud _thud _as something hit the ground around me. Looking around with my mask lens, the source was revealed to be from a mound of decomposing rags in a boat. Directly above, two guards hurled additional body bags of plague victims down from the bridge onto the pile.

" – hey, I think the last one was breathing!" said one guard.

I blinked from rooftop to rooftop towards the Distillery, somewhat glad that Emily had been taken to a nicer neighborhood. The Golden Cat was a favorite of nobles and Dunwall royal guards, but I had never visited the establishment myself. Tucked away by an exquisite shoreline, its location made it ideal for pleasures of sin, away from the prowling eyes of Overseers and desolate folk. Frankly, I was quite curious to see the place myself.

After speaking with Slackjaw and discovering his distaste of the Pendleton twins, which coincidentally fell in line with my mission, I agreed to his tomfoolery of stealing an art merchant's safe combination in exchange for his help in eliminating them.

The minute I entered from the rooftop hotel entrance into the Golden Cat's residence, its striking contrast to the cobble and steel – filled street exterior filled me with intrigue. Vast white columns of architectural splendor, embraced by spiraling green vines and flowers, and a colorful garden pavilion greeted my eyes. I was instantly reminded of the warm breeze, abundance of fresh fruit and sandy beaches of Serkonos; it was difficult to resist the urge to bed down right there.

"The Madame has strict orders. All access to the dorms is restricted," an entrance guard remarked near the entrance courtyard.

"She's paranoid. The kid is harmless!" said another.

No doubt they spoke of Emily. Relieved to hear that she was alive, I carefully made my way towards one of the rooftop shutters of the main building, squinting from the bright reflected sunlight.

"Ahem," a city watch guard cleared his throat somewhere below. I stood straight with my back pressed against the wall, hoping that I had not been detected.

" – stupid, goddamn…" the guard muttered. "How long do I have to – "

Slowly, I glanced down to see a shiny, black helmet hovering some few meters below my feet. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the spot on the balcony behind him and dropped myself onto his level.

"What - ?!"

I grabbed him in my arms and executed a choke. Within seconds his body slid onto the floor, and I desperately hoped that no one was within the rooms directly behind me. Peeking through the lock, there was no sign of any person, so I proceeded to open the door.

I was greeted by a scene of maroon cushions and couches. The room was decorated with luxuriant tones and velvet, complimented by portraits of women on the walls and furniture made of fine wood. My nose detected traces of incense permeating the air, and the dim welcome of the environment nearly lulled me to sleep before I slapped myself back to my senses. The Golden Cat was rich beyond even all the gold in Dunwall Tower.

Suddenly the doors to the central chamber opened.

" – huh?" a guard captain stumbled in alert.

Without a second's thought, I whirled around, drew my crossbow, and shot a highly concentrated dart of sleeping chemical into his leg. He staggered, and before he was able to draw his sword, fell face flat onto the floor.

A short examination of his unconscious body revealed him to be one of the Pendleton guards; I pocketed the coin in his pouch, slung him over my shoulder, closed the chamber doors, and placed him out on the balcony with the unconscious city watchman, taking care to make the incident appear to be an accident between two inconspicuous lovers.

As I made my way up the stairs, I wondered if Emily understood where she was being taken; despite its welcoming gestures, the establishment was a mousetrap for the innocence of the young.

Finally, after incapacitating a few more guards and courtesans, I arrived in Emily's room.

"– Corvo - !" she said excitedly as I took off my mask and swung her around in the air. "You're back! Can we go now? I almost got away twice!"

"_Twice_?" I commented. "Emily, you know it's dangerous, don't try to endanger yourself – "

"I know, but I can run, and I can hide. Besides, the people holding me here aren't very smart. I know a special door that special people use. We can use it to get out," she said, face gleaming. "Follow me."

As persistent as she was about her capabilities, I was hesitant to let her on her own. But for a child her age, she was bright and energetic; her stubbornness reminded me of Jessamine Kaldwin in her younger years, always full of surprises and a glowing beacon of hope in my life. Entrusting her with this task, I nodded and followed her to the basement.

"Emily, I'll unlock the door, but be careful; there are lots of guards outside. Don't get anywhere near those towers, or they'll shoot you. Try to stay in the shadows, just as I taught you," I warned.

"Aren't you coming with me?" she asked expectantly.

"No, there's still some business I have to take care of. Don't worry about me; just make for the shore and you'll see Samuel's boat."

"Alright then, I know what to do," she answered with a confident look.

With that we parted ways, and I proceeded to the last known location of the art dealer Bunting upstairs. If anything, I had expected a roomful of extravagant orgies and carousing, but I entered an entirely different setting when I opened the doors to the Silver Room: a checkered floor, a lamplight, and the single sight of the back of an electric chair with a man strapped in the middle.

I closed the door and walked carefully up to the peculiar setup.

"There you are, I've been waiting twenty minutes," said the man - presumably Bunting - who also happened to be blindfolded. His clothes were impeccably neat, the gold buttons on his coat appeared shined, and his gray hair was otherwise neatly trimmed.

"Your footsteps sound a little heavy. Have you gained a little weight, honey?" he teased.

Not knowing what in the Void I was supposed to do at that point, I decided to remain silent so as not to give anything away. A noticeably protruding switch near his arm caught my attention.

"So just like before, I don't want you to stop. Keep going, until…let's see, the final word is 'retribution'…yes, that's it," he said, swaying his thighs eagerly.

So the art dealer was a masochist. Comforted by the fact that I would not regret causing him undue harm, I pulled the switch and sent a large electrical jolt that radiated from his head to the rest of his body.

"AH! OOH! That felt good…I needed that," he said, shaking his head. "You see, I'm a horrible person. I cheated them of their money…"

I paid no attention to his insensible rambles, as I was quite literally astonished by his capability to handle so many high voltage spasms without simply knocking out; Piero would have been pleased to see such a durable subject in one of his potential experiments with the arc pylon. Finally, at the breaking point in this garish game, his entire body would have leapt into the air had he not been restrained.

"RETRIBUTION! RETRIBUTION! That's – quite enough – "

As he fell silent, I closed my eyes and hoped this turn of the switch would be the last.

"AAAAAGH! WHAT THE - ?" his hands fumbled as I left him shaking in his chair. "Who is this? What do you want?"

Glad that I didn't have to impersonate a woman, I politely inquired about the combination of his safe.

"Ah yes, that. It's 666. You can have anything inside. I think I felt my heart skip…"

As I exited the room, I breathed a sigh of relief knowing Emily had stayed in the dorms to avoid the madness of this place…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

We rode together back to the Hound Pits Pub on Samuel's boat, while Emily continued to shift about inquisitively as she tried to figure out how the boat's complex machinery.

"I've seen my share of mechanics," Samuel commented proudly, "but I've always had a knack for simple designs. This here boat has been my life since I left the navy; wouldn't exchange her for all the gold in the world."

"Does she have a name?" asked Emily.

"Well, to tell the truth, I've never really thought much about it. I guess _Amaranth _comes to mind."

"One day I'm going to explore all over the isles in my own boat, including Pandyssia," Emily said happily, straightening up.

"Well, you're certainly braver than I am," Samuel answered, before turning to me. "So you did the business, did you Corvo?"

"What business?" Emily inquired.

"Ah, adult business…"

"Here, I brought a present for you," I interrupted, unwrapping the newspaper around a small embroidered carmine box from my pocket. "It's a jewel box I found at the Golden Cat, and I thought you'd like it."

"Wow, thanks Corvo! I'll be sure to keep the coin I collect in it," Emily said, taking the box and admiring it.

When we arrived at shore, we were greeted by most everyone with great optimism. Havelock in particular appeared pleased as he shook my hand, a gesture I rarely witnessed in the otherwise stoic man.

"I'll go with Callista. See you later, Corvo," Emily waved as she trudged off to her quarters.

"You'll want to speak with Lord Pendleton. He's got to be somewhere around here," Samuel added.

I dreaded bringing the news to the noble, but there was no way around it. Somehow I felt a fine line between his loyalty to the cause and to himself, but now that his brothers were kept alive while posing no threat to the Parliamentary votes, I suspected that the damage had been somewhat mitigated.

Pendleton himself, who was standing at the tower alcove overlooking the sea, exhibited awe as he curtly acknowledged my efforts while commenting that one day he would visit his siblings. Without so much as thanks, he proceeded to his business; as he walked away, I very much doubted he would not regret his decision to spare their lives after eventually discovering their fates somewhere deep underground, slaving away in their own mines.

Until that day came when I would finally be vilified by those around me, it seemed Havelock and Martin never found shortage of ideas for their antics against the Lord Regent.

"We know the Lord Regent has a mistress who is a close enough ally and recently sat for a portrait by the Royal Physician, Anton Sokolov. He'll know her name. If we can track her down, we will be another step ahead," said Havelock, drinking from his glass at the bar. "Sokolov lives near Kaldwin's Bridge; Samuel can take you there."

"With that book you've recovered from Campbell, I can't believe all the blackmail that's been going on in the Abbey," added Martin.

Now the Royal Physician was to be abducted. Just how far would our operation go before we commit the same kidnapping and extortion that our enemies relied on?

"Deliver him here for questioning, and then we can decide our next move," Havelock concluded.

Considering the many leaps we had taken lately, the mission was nonetheless unsurprising. The only concern that lingered in my head was how long it took before we were discovered, before our lives would be endangered by the mayhem we had caused for ourselves. Would there have been a different solution, I would have sought it; unfortunately, I could find none, and as draconic as our actions would become, I had no choice but to oblige.

I examined the furnishings around the bar; fillings spilled out from the fringes of seats, the wood revealed numerous cracks and tears, and the liquid dispensers rusted away from years of neglect. Even with all the comfort of food and warmth, our entire operation would have crumbled to dust without the funding provided by Piero's black market exchanges.

Hoping that my next destination would provide profitable salvage, I set out for the bridge as the sun began to set.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

When I had reached the southside bridgeway, I was instantly taken by the massive grandeur of the structure; its iron scaffolds raising two symmetrical metal towers on either end, rising up to meet the heavens and standing watch over the cityscape, remained the undefeated symbol of Dunwall's might before the plague ran its course.

As I took the cargo railway into the district, enjoying its spectacular seaside view, I wondered if Samuel was right in taking to the sea after feeling in need of spiritual direction.

"_I smell blood beneath the pylons, bone in the underground chambers…many men died building this structure," _the heart whispered as I crossed from roof to roof.

"This place is abandoned…I wonder how long it's been this way," I contemplated aloud.

The people of Serkonos were well known seaside traders who were very much attuned to the ocean and its unpredictable nature. Never much of a seafarer myself, I had once considered becoming a charter of the isles just before I took my position as the Royal Protector, but had no such opportunity due to the innumerable responsibilities I was soon shouldered with. My skills, as the people in court said, were invaluable, and the coin they paid far outlasted any flights of fancy I had of any exciting adventures away from the crowded populace.

But my life changed after meeting Jessamine, and now the bitter irony unfolds as I become the most wanted man in this crumbling empire, with nothing left to protect but my dignity and the Empress's only daughter…

I watched as two Bottlestreet gang thugs peered through the iron gates to Midrow Section below me, not realizing how far I had gone while I was musing about the past. Perhaps the many wearied men and women who have used this bridge to pass into the Void mulled over the same ideas, and felt hopeless to withstand the toil of a beleaguered city any longer.

Just ahead of the gate, an arc pylon accompanied by several guards stood watch over the entrance to the drawbridge. As I began loading my crossbow with a sleep dart, the two men dashed through the gate to confront the guard captain, who immediately drew his sword and pistol.

"Let's show em' who owns the block!" the first thug exclaimed, taking a swig of whiskey and blowing over the lighter in his hand, which sent flames engulfing his opponent.

"Guards! To me!" the captain ordered aloud, nervously patting his clothes while firing his pistol haphazardly.

I took this opportunity to leap from the broken side of the building's third floor, executing a roll as I landed on the ground behind a directory. As I looked up, a wanted poster detailing the disappearance of the Pendleton twins and a bounty from the crimes of late accompanied by my masked picture were plastered onto the steel panel. Sliding behind a stash of crates and down the stairs to the riverbed below, I was forced to a halt as four hanging river krusts spewed acid in my direction, which grazed my shoulder as I ducked behind a trash bin.

This time the blighters were swift enough to render my execution of incendiary crossbow shots inaccurate as my aiming arm was incapacitated by their effervescent toxins. Taking out a bandage, I wrapped it around my left shoulder and tied it taut, silently chastising my hastiness in the process.

Proceeding to the first level of the bridge, I spotted a lone guard examining an arc pylon; I continued up the stairs behind him and climbed ever higher towards the drawbridge controls. The wind grew increasingly relentless, whistling and whooshing against the metal panels and chains, which clattered against its force.

I crouched upon reaching the topmost level to avoid swaying and detected a guard captain just ahead with the Outsider's dark vision. As his footsteps drew near around the corner, I quickly unsheathed my blade and prepared to fight as my injuries prevented me from otherwise maneuvering away from detection.

"What the - ?!" he stammered, drawing his sword. "You're gonna bleed!"

Backing away slowly, I deflected his slashes, the vibrations of clashing metal sending sharp pain radiating up my neck, until a misplaced blow and a sudden gust of wind unhinged his balance, sending him reeling down the shaft below. A distant _thud _echoed up the railings some few minutes later, which discerningly reminded of how far up the tower was built.

After successfully lowering the drawbridge and crossing to the other side, I managed to clamber up a few more shafts overlooking the entrance to the north end of Sokolov's neighborhood.

"Look sharp, we got someone skulking around," a guardsman addressed far below as I adjusted my lens for a closer inspection.

The way down was encumbered by more arc pylons and watchmen; further, my energy had started to wane as the first climb had taken its toll.

Before the moments of indecision could set in, I turned facing towards the crimson horizon, withdrew my gear, took a deep breath, and leapt from the top of the bridge into the cold waters below.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Sokolov remained unconscious for the entirety of the twilight hours since I brought him back to the Hound Pits; his facial hair was formidable, and he smelled strongly of Tyvian wine, which did little to mask the offensive odors given off from what I assumed to be days without bathing. It was a painful ride back for Samuel and me.

It was late as I opened the doors to Emily's room in the old tower, in which Callista hurriedly told me to keep the noise to a minimum. Emily tossed and turned in her bed, but was otherwise asleep.

"She still has bad dreams," Callista said, sitting by her side with a small candlelight book in her hands. "She feels most at ease when you are around. The poor girl misses her mother, and still utters her name in her sleep."

"She is strong for her age. I've not seen anyone else remain as composed after such traumatic events," I commented, walking up beside her.

"Yes. I believe Emily will make it through this alright. And she has you."

"Have you written to your uncle?" I asked quietly.

"Oh…yes of course. I tried to keep a low profile, obviously, as you know people have been rattled by the High Overseer's fate. I'm just glad Captain Curnow's alive; I cannot thank you enough. Your work back there was most impressive, and somehow you managed to remain concealed throughout the entire task. I've never seen anyone work with such efficiency and grace," she uttered, before turning a slight tinge of pink.

"I'm sorry, you're not accustomed to flattery like the other nobles, it really must have been difficult for you – I apologize, I didn't mean to offend…"

"There's no need," I deflected. "I can't say I'm proud of what I did, but it was the best choice. People like him only pull down our efforts to rebuild, and it was long past time for his retirement."

"Yes, you are right. If only the rest of Dunwall's aristocracy understood…we would be alive in much better days," Callista agreed, turning her gaze back to Emily.

"I must go back to my quarters. Good night, Callista," I concluded, sitting up. "And goodnight, Emily."

Without further ado I retired to my room for the night, but not without feeling a strangeness in my head, a light feeling in my chest and an odd swiftness in my feet that felt foreign after all the toil of bringing Sokolov back.

It was reminiscent of when I first met Jessamine, when she had just come of age as a young woman and was destined to become the Empress; she wore her hair up in a bun, tied elegantly with a sparkling golden band. She detested the dress that was given to her, which was woven from purple silk of the finest tailoring, as she was always a commoner at heart and preferred the simpler, more practical designs.

My impression was that I had felt a fleeting infatuation from being around Callista, not unlike that of a man yearning to seek the solace from a woman's touch, but I dismissed these thoughts as I hid away my gear under my bed. _No, Emily is the priority here, and there is little time for mindless pandering; our motive is to press forward and to insure Emily's safety, _I thought.

Determined to maintain focus, I stashed the heart into the cabinet and blew out the candles on the bedside table. I closed an entry titled "The Hungry Cosmos" from a book I had been reading before placing it beside the candles, and decided to skip indulging in its contents for the night.

Taking off my coat and plucking out the seaweed from its inner pockets, I folded it onto the cabinet and replaced the bandages on my shoulder with fresh ones soaked in Tyvian medicinal herbs. As I felt relief from the constant burning sensations, I calmed my mind, reclined onto the bed and sank into a deep sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

I awoke to the sounds of Emily's giggles the following morning, which startled me, as she had not left the tower this early prior.

"You were making funny faces when you were sleeping," she said, gazing curiously.

"Why are you out so early? Where did Callista go?" I mumbled, feeling groggy.

"She said she'll come get me after her bath. Can I please stay in your room? I don't like it up in the tower; I think it's haunted."

"You can stay whenever you like," I replied, waving off her requests. Feeling my stomach grumble, all I wanted to do at the moment was munch on a fresh – baked strawberry tartlet.

"Thanks," Emily replied happily, sitting down on the floor. "Callista always has me do my lessons in the morning, but they're boring. All I get to hear is Dunwall's history and the royal court, but I want to hear stories of adventure, like pirate battles and scary monsters."

"You will see plenty of those once you're older," I said while unwrapping the bandages on my shoulder and putting on my coat.

"But everyone says battles are not for young ladies to hear, and Havelock thinks I should stay away from those things. I'm not easily scared."

"You should if you know what's best for you," I admitted. "These pirates and monsters you hear of; they're not always pleasant. And there are monsters that spread the plague."

"Well, if I can't go out on my own, can't you at least tell me what happened when you were away? What happened to the evil men who kidnapped me? What about your trip through the sewers, were there big man – eating rats?"

I sighed, and decided it was best to keep her informed of the truth.

"I made your kidnappers disappear; they won't ever come to harm anyone again. And lately the sewers have had bad plague-carrying rat infestations. Many of the displaced citizens of Dunwall live in there, and it smells awful. Of course, you'll never have to worry about going down there," I responded quickly. "Maybe when you become Empress, all this will be over and the rats won't be so bad."

"That's why you take so long when you're away. Before you go, can I see that slingy bow you have?"

"What, the crossbow?" I retrieved my gear and took out the unloaded weapon.

"Yeah. Will you teach me how to use one? Later, I mean," Emily took Piero's handicraft and examined it with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Yes, but don't tell Callista or anyone," I reassured with a smile, before trudging off downstairs.

After Sokolov's short interrogation, I spent the afternoon wandering the yard and keeping watch as Emily sat by the river throwing rocks as far as they would go and collecting the various glittering objects that washed ashore. While I had this rare time to meditate, the Regent must be mulling over a counterattack, deploying his Overseers and generals to a paranoid degree. If this Boyle party went well tonight, I thought, I would finally be able to exact revenge on the former Spymaster, having eliminated all but his closest advisors.

Feeling that the success of our efforts was all too good to be true, I walked over to Samuel's boat, where the sailor was drinking from a whiskey bottle.

"Them Boyles never settle for anything less than extraordinary, I can tell you that," he said, flicking his cigar. "The party tonight is going to be a grand spectacle."

"What do you think will happen?" I asked him.

"I know what you're capable of, Corvo. You'll find this Lady Boyle and end the Regent's military regime for good. With all that you've done, he can no longer pose a threat with his limited power. And did I say he's been floundering about all along in Dunwall Tower, clueless as to who is responsible for all this?"

"He'll know eventually."

"He may. But so far you're a faceless mystery to everybody. There are more posters around with your bounty than ever before. I can't blame Admiral Havelock for being obsessively cautious; there are times where even I feel we have gotten ourselves into real deep water."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to see. Sometimes I don't feel like I have control over myself anymore; what have I done to this city, prying about in shadows and destroying those I feel have been traitors? Is this the true meaning of justice?"

"Well, you can ask Piero, he's the philosophical one," Samuel answered nonchalantly. "Me, I'm just glad we're still alive. We're heading in the right direction, and that's all that matters."

Despite my increasing desire to break away from everything and condemn myself to the life of anonymous retirement into the far recesses of the world, I drew strength from the stubborn consistency of the members of the Loyalists, knowing that for all the bloodshed I had committed in the past, an equal many sacrifices were made by good people like Samuel and Callista in the name of our efforts. Perhaps I had thought overly much and had to learn from them, with their unwavering approach to business and resolute mentality that there would be success.

Or perhaps I was to blame, burdened by the thought of being the only one out in the battlefield and feeling the threat of failure creep ever slowly into my conscience. It was during these moments that the Outsider would present himself, testing my fortitude and prodding at the depths of my regrets. His interest never waned, and for all the simple amusement I had become to the likes of him, I knew from then on I would no longer remain bound to the whims of others so long as I retained my sanity and will to fight for myself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

I remember the Boyle party as vividly as when I had first stepped foot into its magnificent, glittering halls. With all the gourmet made foods, the finest décor, and nobles mingling about in their luxurious outfits, I was certain that my appearance, which appeared anything but delicate, would quickly give away my intrusion of the estate, but it was not so.

If anything, I managed to steal away a plethora of fresh fruits, bread, Serkonan sausages and a few accessories fetching hundreds in coin. I helped myself to liberal amounts of Gristol cider whenever the opportunity presented itself, whether from the fountain cornucopias or from behind an unsuspecting maid's serving platter.

The scene was a delightful and merry welcome despite the horrors that I had encountered outside, where tallboys patrolled the festering alleys and patrolmen rounded up any citizens hinting at the slightest symptom of plague. To say the least, the Outsider has particular taste for situations of irony.

I wandered about the halls while guests commented on the "fearsomeness" of my mask, and guards kept their watchful eyes on my whereabouts. Once I encountered one of the Boyles in the music room, who remarked rather disparagingly about how there were no more "men of worth" in Dunwall, and how it had become well on its way to becoming the source of all chaos.

"They ought to turn this city into a prison house," she said with an unmistakable air of arrogance, her white costume gleaming brightly against the candlelight. "The city watch has lost complete control over containing the plague rats, and the streets have become so disgusting, I can hardly fathom why anyone of taste would remain here much longer. It is truly an embarrassment of our reputation."

"Say what you will, but I remain in support of the Regent. At least there is someone in position of power who can solve this crisis," said another red-masked man.

Their conversations serving as motivation towards my goal, I eavesdropped on potential clues to the target while navigating my way towards the kitchen area.

"This point is off limits to all guests," said a guard captain standing beside the stairway leading upstairs that was visibly cordoned off.

I turned as if to proceed downstairs to the kitchen, but quickly slipped behind his back as soon as he left to "relieve himself".

What followed was a charade of events involving a dogpile of sleep – darted guards in one of the bedrooms, a rendezvous through the attic, and a mass burglary of the Boyle main hallway, where I recovered two Sokolov paintings and a brass Boyle egg keepsake.

As I flipped through the pages of Esma's diary, I discovered her unusual affinity for socializing with men and inviting them over to her estate for evenings of various entertainments. She was the Boyle mistress, dressed in black, as was finally revealed through a hidden letter addressed to her from the Lord Regent.

I carefully made my way downstairs, evading the guardsman I met earlier and blending with the bustling activity of the servants. Spotting Esma's approach from down the confetti – splattered hall, I feigned interest in an antique clock while tracking her progress to a nearby restroom.

I quickly placed a foot in the doorway before she could shut herself in.

"I had hoped to have some privacy in here," she said with a silky voice. "But you are obviously not an ordinary man. Would you be so kind as to offer a lady her space?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could meet elsewhere, more secluded," I responded, putting on my best impression of a debonair gentleman.

"Oh? Perhaps we can talk more in my room upstairs," Esma said with renewed interest.

Admittedly, I was impressed with the ease of which I had pulled off the stint, and even felt saddened in having to follow through with my initiative; she, like Emily, was a young lady at heart, exquisite and adventurous, caught in the spiraling events of this world so fraught with misery and disdain. As we proceeded up the stairs, I contemplated whether the outcome would make for a good tragedy, or a story meant to teach frightened young children on the fates of the hedonistic minds that came to power, but remained questionable as to whom the real perpetuators of sin were.

The door to her dimly lit bedroom opened, and Esma strutted in blissfully. I braced myself, with a hand gripped on my blade and the other glowing with the Outsider's mark. Rather than betray my guilt, I stepped behind her line of sight to encourage her anticipation.

"Oh, I do love surprises; I see you are as graceful as you appear…dangerous, and mysterious, like the man of my dreams…" she said quietly, basking in the warmth of the candle's glow as I brushed her hair behind her face with my left hand.

"The night will go on for an eternity, and you will never feel loneliness again," I whispered.

I sank the blade through her jugular in a brisk, determined moment of action, and shortly after collapsing at my feet, her body vanished into ash and scattered into the air.


End file.
